


Arachnophobia

by Black_Crystal_Dragon



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Arachnophobia, Established Relationship, Fluff, Heroism, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, No Smut, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-05
Updated: 2009-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7997155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Crystal_Dragon/pseuds/Black_Crystal_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a spider in Chekov’s quarters. He enlists the help of his boyfriend Scotty to get rid of it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arachnophobia

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for an ST_XI_kink prompt and posted on Livejournal. Imported to AO3 in August 2016. Thanks to LJ user faithsummers80 for the beta.

Chekov knew it was stupid. He _knew_ that. It was stupid and irrational and childish, and he really shouldn’t be this frightened. He had faced far worse than this, after all, and he was going to be late for his shift if he didn’t do something soon.

He took a breath and steeled himself. It wasn’t that big, he told himself; it was probably more scared of him that he was of it. If he got down off the bed, he could step over it – step over it and run to the door and get out of his quarters.

_But then he wouldn’t know where it was when he came back._

He shivered at that thought and stayed exactly where he was. At least he could see it, and it couldn’t sneak up on him: he would see it coming if it decided to move. He twitched his sheets a little closer around him, making obsessively sure that they didn’t hang down to the floor. He couldn’t bear the thought of it crawling up, lightning-fast, to join him.

The spider that stood between the bed and the door flexed its legs, raising two off the floor to wave at him. It was going to start scuttling about in a minute, he just knew it. It might crawl up a wall and across the ceiling and drop down the back of his t-shirt. Chekov scratched compulsively at the back of his neck, trying to suppress another shudder of horror.

He glanced across at the communicator on his bedside before immediately returning his eyes to the spider. He _could_ ask someone to come and get rid of the spider for him, but truth be told he was embarrassed. He didn’t want to be ribbed endlessly for his arachnophobia, especially when he already knew that he shouldn’t be completely debilitated by something so much smaller than he was.

Chekov tried to pull himself together. The spider was not poisonous. Its body was only an inch long – large by spider standards, especially when its gangly legs were included in the size, but still tiny compared to him. It wasn’t a jumping spider, and although it could move at high speed there was no way it could reach him if he just stepped over it quickly. He _could do this_ , he told himself as he pushed the sheets back off his shoulders and shifted so that he was sitting on the very edge of the bed. All he had to do was put his feet down, stand up and walk across the room. He had done it hundreds of times before. The trick was to ignore the spider completely.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to lower his feet onto the cold floor. The spider waved its front pair of legs at him again, and it took all of his self-control not to leap back on to the bed. Instead, he rose to his feet.

The spider chose that moment to move. It darted towards the bed, its long legs moving in tandem. Chekov jumped backwards onto the bed with a squeak – the only sound his constricted throat would allow – and flailed his arms ineffectually at the spider, as if doing so would stop its advance. It scurried forwards another couple of feet, then came to a halt and seemed to settle itself comfortably. Chekov stared at it; he rather felt as if it was staring back with all eight eyes, smugly.

Heart pounding, Chekov reached for his communicator.

He flipped it open without looking away from the spider for a moment. “Chekov to Scotty.”

“Morning, Pavel,” Scotty replied after a short pause. “What can I do for you?”

“Could you come to my quarters, please?” Chekov asked, allowing a little of his desperation to creep into his voice. He didn’t want to be trapped by this spider any more; he wanted it out.

“Don’t you have to be on the Bridge?”

“Yes, but please, Scotty. I need you,” he pleaded. There was a significant pause, and Chekov suddenly realised what he had just said. He would have laughed, if the spider hadn’t been there. He hissed, “I’m not asking you to come here for – for _sex_! I just – need you to do something for me!”

“Right,” Scotty said. He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he continued, “Give me a couple of minutes.”

Chekov breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

***

Five minutes later, Scotty was standing outside Chekov’s door. He pressed the chime and waited for Chekov to call him in before he opened the door. He stepped inside and frowned. Chekov was sitting on his bed, his back pressed against the wall and the sheets pulled up in a knot around his legs. He was staring fixedly at the floor and didn’t even look up when he said, “Hello, Scotty.”

Scotty followed his gaze. There was an ugly spider crouching on the floor a few feet away from the bed. Its body was brown and hairless; its long, thick legs were splayed out to make the creature look a lot bigger than it actually was.

He looked back up at Chekov and realised that he was tense and wide-eyed out of fear. He walked across, stepping carefully over the spider – Chekov let out a small, frightened noise but it didn’t move – and sitting down beside him. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of that wee thing?”

“Don’t sit with your feet on the floor,” Chekov said firmly, glancing at him before returning his gaze to the spider. “It might crawl up your leg.”

Scotty bit back a laugh and shifted backwards so that he could rest his heels on the edge of the bed. Chekov immediately slid across and wrapped both arms around him, pressing his body against Scotty’s so that he could feel him trembling. Scotty wrapped am arm around him and gave him a squeeze.

“Will you kill it for me?” Chekov asked in his most pitiful voice. This time, Scotty couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

“Is that why you wanted me up here?” Chekov nodded silently, his cheeks flushing scarlet with embarrassment. Scotty pressed a kiss to his curls, then dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. “Right then. I’d better catch the beastie, then.”

“Catch it? What do you want to catch it for?”

“It’s bad luck to kill spiders, you know,” Scotty replied solemnly, creeping across the floor and crouching down beside it – far too close for Chekov’s comfort if his expression was anything to go by. “Makes it rain.”

“It makes it rain _in space_?” Chekov asked sarcastically, tearing his eyes off the spider to give Scotty an incredulous look. Scotty shrugged and grinned at him, then reached out to pick up the spider. Before he even got close, Chekov shouted, “Not with your hands!”

Scotty sighed. “What am I supposed to pick it up with, then, genius?”

“Use a glass and some paper!” Chekov ordered, shuddering in disgust. “I don’t want you _touching_ it!”

Scotty huffed, but did as he was told. There was a glass on the bedside table with a little water left in the bottom; he drained it then looked around for something to slide under the glass once it was over the spider. Chekov had gone back to staring at the spider as if that would make it leave his room. Scotty watched him fondly until he flashed him a very brief glare and snapped, “There’s a notepad on my desk!”

He smiled, unperturbed by Chekov’s short temper, and stepped over the spider again on his way to the desk.

“So, why spiders?” he asked as he shifted PADDs aside to reveal the notebook. It was spiral bound and he ripped a sheet of paper out with ease.

“I just don’t like them,” Chekov told him as he crept towards the spider again.

This time, however, the spider seemed to see him coming. It skittered away from him, unfortunately moving towards the bed. Chekov shrieked something in Russian and scrambled towards the end of the bed, away from the advancing spider. Scotty dived forwards and slammed the upturned glass down on top of the spider, trapping it just before it could start to climb up the side of the bed.

He looked up. Chekov was staring between him and the spider with wide eyes, breathing heavily. Scotty cleared his throat. “I’ll get rid of it, then, shall I?”

Chekov nodded earnestly. Scotty smiled and slid the sheet of paper under the rim of the glass until the spider was trapped and then flipped the glass over. Its legs flailed against the smooth sides of its prison, almost as if it were beating against the glass and pleading to be let out. Scotty pressed his palm firmly over the top of the glass and walked over to the door, opened it with his elbow and stepped out into the corridor. A bunch of ensigns happened to be passing; Scotty collared one of them and shoved the glass and paper into his hands.

“Take that to Science,” he ordered as the poor lad peered nervously at the spider. “It’s probably harmless, but you never know – it might’ve been beamed up from another planet, or something.”

Even if it wasn’t, they would know what to do with it. They could have it beamed down somewhere it could survive and not cause upset to the native food-chain, or have it sent back to its home planet, or destroy it if necessary. Whatever they did, it wouldn’t be his problem – and, more importantly, it wouldn’t be Chekov’s problem.

“Yes, sir,” the ensign muttered, and he and his friends started off down the corridor, watching the spider running around the bottom of the glass with morbid fascination. Scotty turned and went back into Chekov’s quarters to find the young man sitting on the edge of his bed with his feet on the floor and a grin on his face.

“It’s gone?” he asked.

“Yes, the nasty wee beastie’s gone,” Scotty replied with a smile, only lightly teasing. Chekov got up and walked over to him, reaching up around Scotty’s neck so that he could pull him down for a kiss.

“Thank you,” he murmured. He let Scotty go a moment later and went over to his wardrobe and started pulling his clothes out.

“I fight off the eight-legged menace and all I get is a kiss and a ‘thank you’?” Scotty asked, folding his arms; he wasn’t really put out, but considering how scared Chekov had been he had expected maybe a little more gratitude.

“No,” Chekov replied as he pulled off the rumpled t-shirt he had slept in. He glanced over his shoulder, a wicked smile curving his lips. “But I should have been on the Bridge ten minutes ago. If I stay and say thank you _properly_ , I won’t get there during my shift at all.”

Scotty raised his eyebrows. “Well, in that case. I suppose I’ll see you later.”

“ _Da_ – come back after Alpha shift,” Chekov told him. He came over, still half undressed, and pressed a brief kiss to Scotty’s lips. “Then I will show you how grateful I am.”

“I’m sure you will,” Scotty smiled. He wrapped his arms around the younger man as he tried to step back and stole another, much deeper kiss.

“I’m going to be late,” Chekov protested when he finally pulled back.

“You’re late already,” Scotty reminded him with a smile, but he let him go a moment later. “Good luck explaining why.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Chekov replied sarcastically, turning his back. Scotty chuckled and headed for the door.

***

Alpha shift seemed to go by slowly. It wasn’t a busy day in Engineering; they had already completed the repairs from the last encounter with hostile aliens and the captain didn’t get them into any further trouble, so there was nothing but routine maintenance to be done. Scotty disliked routine maintenance. It was necessary for the smooth running of the ship, but it was tedious work.

Normally at the end of his shift he would stay behind and tinker with things, making subtle improvements. The engineers on both Alpha and Beta shifts were used to it, and so he gained himself more than a few odd looks as he hurried out of Engineering ten minutes before the shift technically ended. He had started work early that morning; he was perfectly within his rights to leave early, too.

He arrived at Chekov’s quarters early, only a couple of minutes after the end of the shift and before Chekov himself had got back. Scotty sighed and leant against the wall next to his door, trying to look inconspicuous as he watched the steady stream of crewmembers on their way to and from their stations go by. Eventually, he spotted Chekov coming towards him and smiled.

“Someone’s eager,” Chekov said by way of a greeting, teasing but keeping his voice low so that none of the passers by would hear. Scotty felt his cheeks heat up, but the other didn’t seem to notice. He opened the door quickly and called for the lights as he stepped inside, beckoning Scotty to follow him.

“Good shift?” Scotty asked as the door slid closed behind him. Chekov didn’t answer or turn around. Scotty frowned and walked over, sliding his arms around the younger man’s waist and nuzzling into his neck.

“Scotty,” Chekov said very quietly as he pressed a kiss to the junction of his neck and shoulder, but his voice was wrong. Scotty frowned and raised his head, noticing suddenly the stiffness of Chekov’s shoulders. “Scotty, _it came back_.”

The words were barely more than a whimper. Scotty looked up and followed Chekov’s fixed gaze to a spot on the wall above the bed.

There were not one but two large, ugly spiders on the wall, crouching just above the pillow. They were definitely the same species, but one was smaller than the other; possibly a male, possibly younger, Scotty couldn’t tell. Chekov was right: the pair looked very similar to the specimen Scotty had captured that morning. He hoped that there wasn’t going to be some kind of infestation, if only for Chekov’s sake.

“It can’t be the same one,” he reasoned calmly, giving him a reassuring little squeeze. Chekov shook his head emphatically.

“No. It knew I didn’t like it from this morning – you should have killed it when you had the chance! It came back to _gloat_ ,” he said miserably. “And it brought its’ _friend_.”

Scotty raised his eyebrows. “Pavel, I seriously doubt that spiders have the emotional capacity to gloat.”

“Then you don’t know spiders,” Chekov replied darkly. “They are evil, and they know that I’m scared of them – they know!”

“’Course they do,” Scotty said soothingly, patting Chekov on the shoulder and thinking it was perhaps better to just humour him.

Chekov elbowed him hard in the stomach. “Don’t patronise me. Just get rid of them!”

Scotty sighed deeply as he walked over to the replicator and ordered two glasses of water. “They’re tiny compared to you, you know,” he said as made his way into the bathroom to pour the water down the sink. “And they’re probably not poisonous.”

“ _Da_ , I know – I know! I’ve heard it a million times, thank you,” Chekov told him when he returned with the empty glasses. “But I just _don’t like them_. It’s – the way they move, the way they look …”

He shuddered visibly, and Scotty took pity on him. “OK. I’ll catch the pair of them and take them down to Science –”

“No. You will put them in an airlock and eject them into space.”

“Pavel –”

“Scotty! It came back last time – it will keep on coming back until you kill it!”

“I’m telling you, it’s not the same –”

“Yes it is!” Chekov shouted, diverting his gaze from the spiders to glare at Scotty. “Now are you going to behave like a decent boyfriend and kill them for me, or would you rather go without the reward I spent all day planning for you?”

“But it’s cruel,” Scotty protested, but only half-heartedly. He knew that when Chekov put his mind to something, the result was almost always spectacular, and if he had spent a whole day on this reward – well, it was difficult to resist. Chekov pouted at him. Scotty sighed and relented; at least ejecting the spiders into space was a quick death – not like drowning them – and not as messy and frankly disgusting as squashing. “Fine. I’ll airlock the poor bastards.”

“Good,” Chekov muttered, and turned to face the spiders again. The larger one was on the move, almost strolling towards the ceiling. Scotty saw it and swore; catching spiders in glasses when they were on walls was difficult enough as it was without being forced to do it at arm’s length. He would have to catch the lower one as quickly as possible in the hopes that it wouldn’t climb too high.

He went over to the desk and snatched a couple of sheets of paper, then walked back to the bed and placed the glass over the smaller spider. It immediately began scuttling around the circumference of its prison, its front pair of legs beating against the glass ineffectually. Scotty quickly the slid the paper under the rim and transferred his first captive onto the bedside table so that he could concentrate on the other spider.

It had crawled up onto the ceiling and was moving faster now, all the time getting further from the bed and making it impossible for him to reach. He swore under his breath; nothing was ever easy. He glanced across at Chekov to find him wide-eyed and backing away from the spider, obviously not wanting to let it out of his sight. 

“Pavel, I don’t think I can catch it until it comes down off the ceiling,” he said, trying to project calm in Chekov’s direction. “I can’t reach.”

“You can’t leave it there!” Chekov yelped, his eyes flicking from the spider to Scotty and then nervously back again. He sounded borderline hysterical. Scotty held up his hands.

“I’m not planning on it,” Scotty told him firmly. “How about we go and get rid of the one I’ve caught, eh? It might’ve come down by the time we get back.”

“But what if it _hides_?”

Scotty tried his best to look sympathetic – this was obviously a phobia and Chekov was clearly terrified – but it was difficult, when he knew Chekov was quite capable of holding his own against assailants twice his own size and weight on away missions. It just seemed stupid that he could be so irrationally afraid now.

“Then I’ll find it,” he promised eventually, trying not to sound frustrated. He did feel sorry for Chekov, after all. He picked up the spider in its glass prison and nodded towards the door. “Open the door for me, will you?”

Chekov hit the sensor that opened the door and stumbled out into the corridor as Scotty approached with the spider. He crossed to the far side of the corridor, keeping as far away from the creature as was possible. Scotty raised his eyebrows.

“Do you want to wait here while I dispose of it?” he asked. Chekov swallowed hard and stood a little straighter, visibly pulling himself together.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I want to see you airlock it.”

“OK,” Scotty sighed. “Come on, then.”

***

Putting the spider into an airlock and jettisoning it into open space was satisfying. Yes, it was technically a waste of the _Enterprise_ ’s resources and Scotty’s time, but Chekov couldn’t quite feel sorry. It lifted a weight from his shoulders knowing that there was one less spider in the world, one less eight-legged monstrosity creeping around ready to frighten him to death.

“Right,” Scotty said as the outer doors of the airlock closed and the control panel chirped in acknowledgement. “One down, one to go.”

They started back the way they had come, Chekov’s heart sinking. He had almost forgotten that there was another one waiting for him in the euphoria of being rid of the first spider. An involuntary shudder ran through his body at the thought of going back into his room without the slightest idea of where it was.

Scotty took his hand and squeezed gently. It wasn’t difficult to guess that he had seen his renewed discomfort; Chekov blushed and kept his head bowed.

“You know, the captain’s going to wonder what the hell I’ve been using the airlocks for,” Scotty said after a moment. “If he asks me, I reserve the right to tell him everything.”

Chekov stopped dead in his tracks, looking up sharply. He couldn’t believe Scotty would do such a thing. “You wouldn’t! He’ll tease me _forever_!”

“’Course I wouldn’t,” Scotty laughed, tugging on his arm to get him moving again. “Just wanted to see your face when I suggested it.”

“Bastard,” Chekov muttered. Scotty chuckled and slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close so that he could kiss his temple.

“Maybe – but I’m the bastard rescuing you from the nasty arachnids,” he reminded him playfully.

Chekov snorted. “ _Da_. My hero. Just like in movies.”

“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?” Scotty asked with an exaggerated wounded tone. He gave Chekov’s shoulders a shake. “And here was I thinking I was being brave and heroic for my scared wee Russian …”

Chekov knew he was being teased, but Scotty’s words struck a chord. He slid an arm around the other man’s waist. “Catching spiders _is_ brave and heroic – to me, anyway.”

Scotty chucked again, but this time the warm sound sent a tingle running right down to Chekov’s toes. He kissed Chekov’s curls and murmured, “So, you’re still going to thank me later, then?”

“Oh, I think so,” Chekov smiled. “I wouldn’t want my plans to be wasted, after all.”

“Well then,” Scotty said, taking his arm from around Chekov’s shoulders. “Better hurry up and catch the other one, hadn’t I?”

Chekov’s dread, momentarily forgotten thanks to Scotty, started to grow again as they made their way back to his quarters. He had let the spider out of his sight; it could be anywhere: under a swathe of paper and PADDs on his desk, ready to run across his fingers when he shifted them aside – hidden in the folds of one of his uniform shirts so that it could creep down his back when he put it on – crouched in the shadow of his pillows, waiting for him to fall asleep before it scuttled across his face –

Chekov shuddered as they came to halt in front of his door, scratching compulsively at his scalp. Just thinking about the movement of its legs and the possibility of them on his skin made him itch all over.

“Do you want to wait out here?” Scotty asked kindly, touching his shoulder.

Chekov glanced up and down the corridor, checking that they were alone before he nodded, closing his eyes and letting out his breath in a relieved sigh. He didn’t want anyone but Scotty to see him like this, completely terrified of going into a room where there was a hidden spider.

“I’ll let you in,” he offered, stepping forwards and pressing his palm to the sensor beside the door. It slid open obediently and Chekov jumped back from the darkened room, just in case the spider came scuttling out towards him. He backed away until he hit the far wall of the corridor and nodded to Scotty. “I will stay here.”

“Right then,” Scotty said, turning to face Chekov’s quarters. He stepped inside calmly and called for the lights, turning to give Chekov a warm smile before the door slid closed behind him.

Chekov leaned against the wall and tried to relax. It was only a spider, and almost certainly not poisonous. Even if it was, the sickbay could supply the antidote; all Federation ships on exploratory missions were required to carry remedies for all treatable poisons, just in case they encountered an alien venom that could be treated by known cures. There was nothing to worry about – it was hardly a threat to Scotty – but he couldn’t help but feel slightly anxious.

The minutes dragged by. Chekov fidgeted, torn between opening the door to check that Scotty was safe and hadn’t been caught in some gigantic web and paralysed by a whole colony of spiders that had taken up residence in Chekov’s quarters – unlikely, he would be the first to admit, but a possibility within his overactive imagination – and potentially letting the spider out into the corridor with him if he did so.

Finally, just as Chekov was steeling himself to go over and open the door, telling himself firmly that it _wasn’t_ going to run up his leg if it came out at all, it opened to reveal Scotty. He had an upturned glass and a piece of paper balanced on the palm of his hand; inside the glass, Chekov could make out a small, dark shape moving. He shivered, scratching the itch that crawled up his arm, and tried not to look at it.

“Told you I’d catch the little bugger,” Scotty said triumphantly, holding up his captive and grinning. “Nasty little thing, this one. Managed to escape the first time I caught her.”

“Her?” Chekov asked, pressing himself against the wall again just in case the spider made another break for it.

“Female spiders are generally bigger,” Scotty told him. He peered through the glass. “Besides, she looks like a girl.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Chekov replied, not willing to look and see if Scotty was right. He wrapped both arms around himself protectively. “Airlock?”

“If you insist,” Scotty said, looking up from the spider in its prison and giving Chekov a small smile. Chekov nodded, and they set off towards the airlock again.

Once there, Scotty recited his access codes to Chekov again; it was technically a breach of security, but they had no choice since Scotty had both hands occupied with the spider, and they both knew that while Chekov could memorise the code, he would not. Tempting though it might be to have access to all areas of the _Enterprise_ , using her chief engineer’s codes, he knew that if he was discovered it would at the very least go down in both his and Scotty’s permanent record, and he took his job far too seriously to risk that. Besides, if there was something he desperately wanted to see that was in a restricted area, it was easy enough to get Scotty to show him, if he put in the right amounts of enthusiasm and charm.

Once the airlock was open, Scotty went inside and deposited the spider, glass and all, in the centre of the room. When he had come out again, he keyed in a sequence of commands to close the inner doors and prepare the airlock for opening. A few moments later, he stepped back from the control panel.

“OK. All we have to do now is open the outer doors,” he said, giving Chekov a smile. “Care to do the honours?”

Chekov grinned and pressed the final button. They heard the mechanical sound of the doors opening, and waited for the sequence to complete, making the airlock safe to enter from the inside again, before they looked at one another.

“It’s gone,” Chekov sighed. He was unable to wipe the relieved grin from his face. The spiders were gone; they couldn’t trouble him any longer. He took Scotty’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I think my spider-catching hero is overdue his reward.”

“I like the sound of that,” Scotty replied, taking a step closer and leaning in to kiss him. Chekov opened his mouth almost immediately, sucking Scotty’s bottom lip between his own and drawing his tongue across it as he did so. Scotty gave an involuntary shudder in response; he pulled back reluctantly and cleared his throat. “Not here. Your quarters?”

“Nearer than yours,” Chekov said with a nod of agreement.

The walk back seemed to take longer, this time, however much they hurried one another along, and so by the time they reached his quarters, anticipation had already started to send tingles up and down Chekov’s spine. He felt hypersensitive to touch – Scotty’s hand brushing his as they came to a halt outside his door, his palm on the small of his back as he opened it.

He stepped inside and murmured, “Lights, twenty-five percent.”

Scotty stepped up behind him and wrapped both arms around his stomach. He dropped a kiss onto his clothed shoulder, then onto the bare skin of his neck. “So, where’s my reward?”

His tone was playful and brought a smile to Chekov’s face. He turned in the loose embrace, sliding his hands up Scotty’s arms and then lacing his fingers together at the back of the older man’s neck.

“Right here,” he murmured, and pulled Scotty into a kiss.

***

“So, do you feel suitably rewarded?” Chekov asked later, as they lay tangled together on top of his sheets. He waited until Scotty had gathered the breath to answer before he continued, “Or do you think you could take another ‘thank you’ when we have our breath back?”

Scotty let out his breath slowly, stroking his fingertips up and down Chekov’s arm and apparently mulling it over. Chekov looked up at him, eyebrows raised, to find Scotty grinning at him.

“Well, they were awfully big spiders,” he said.


End file.
